Broken
by doodlebug96
Summary: Two casualties of the war against Klaus attempt to connect and find healing in one another. Dark!fic with mature themes.
1. Broken

_Hello out there, this is my first fic. Just a little idea that wouldn't go away. Read and review._

**_Broken_**

_Because I'm broken when I'm open  
>And I don't feel like I am strong enough<br>'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome  
>And I don't feel right when you're gone away<br>You've gone away, you don't feel me here anymore_

* * *

><p>Bonnie notices that Ric still shakes and shivers. He emphasizes his words in a way that is wholly history teacher Mr. Alaric Saltzman and less the body controlled by the vampire who wanted to kill her. It's like he's trying to convince not only them, but himself that things are back to normal. His eyes are soft and full of apologies when they meet hers, the two have talked and he remembers bits and pieces of their battle. The pain she inflicted upon his physical form and the fear that wrapped around his soul when he thought she was dead. She had listened to his confessions and the secrets of his heart and even shared a few of her own. He doesn't believe they can win, not without deaths that will hurt but will prove necessary. She doesn't really want to die adding her name to the list of martyred Bennett witches. After all it's not her cause; she has or never will be in love with a vampire. She's just guilty of needing to protect her best friend<p>

She finds it funny that the way she once saw her teacher: relegated to the role of father figure although someone else held the title has now changed. Her skin prickles with sweat when he's around. Her stomach flips when his fingertips accidently brush hers when he returns assignments during class. She dampens the delusional school girl crush with thoughts of her boyfriend and images of Jenna's tear – stained face. She's not that girl, she never has been and she hopes she never will.

It's a lost cause the first time Bonnie sees Ric staring at the grave in the cemetery. Jeremy and Elena both have reported that Jenna has distanced herself from everyone and everything and chosen to focus on her studies. There's no time for drinks or greasy plates of fries. She just wants to forget the truth that has gone unnoticed. That starts with leaving Ric behind.

She can hear his muffled sobs as he mourns for a wife that now he's not sure he ever loved. She doesn't mistake the distinctive sound or unmistakable scent of the Beam in the bottle clutched tightly in his left hand. He takes long, hard dregs between his tears. He curses at the night sky and the woman who brought the supernatural shit to his door. He's a bleeding heart, just like Damon, and now she understands why he calls the vampire asshole friend. They both hold their emotions in until they spill over into violent outbursts that result in bloodshed and heartbreak.

She's just like them.

* * *

><p>Jeremy almost dies.<p>

Elena won't say the words but Bonnie can read it in her eyes. He was a human trying to use his body to shield a witch that held the power of one hundred bad ass bitches.

She's the one to blame.

Tension fills the air when she visits the hospital and attempts to sit by his bed. No one says she's not wanted, they don't have to. The message is relayed loud and clear by the way their conversations end when she enters the room. She feels it in the heavy gazes directed towards here before they exit and send a nurse or doctor in to remove her moments later.

She takes the hint.

There are no phone calls to tell her he's home, up and walking around - missing her. Just whispers that always stop as soon as she's in view. Elena and Stefan have taken to going off campus for lunch and she's left alone. There's no turning back she can see it in the pained expression that graces Caroline's face and the air of superiority that washes over Elena's features. Jeremy returns to class and things have changed. There are no well composed words spoken or written that signals their breakup. It's a given – an understood fact.

Bonnie frequents the graveyard. She pauses when she enters; noting Ric's presence at Isobel's grave before continuing to the marker that represents where her Grams' body would lie if her family had buried here in Mystic Falls. She'd made her father buy the plot so she would have a place to go and clear her head. She doesn't say much, only kneels on the lush grass, willing the tears that never come to fall. It's the story of her life, an only child, alone again.

She's still enjoying her pity party of one when the bottle dangles before her face. The first sip burns going down and the second, uncorks the well of salty liquid that rolls from the corner of her eyes.

* * *

><p>Bonnie's not a virgin but she feels like one when she undresses and Ric stands there, eyes cascading down her body as he palms his dick. He's drunk and they've argued from the cemetery to the tiny bedroom in her father's home.<p>

"I can go to jail."

He murmurs before he takes her mouth in a sloppy kiss. He tastes of stale liquor and regret. She tingles from the contact of stubble against the smooth skin of her neck. He presses his erection into her stomach and she knows that now is the time to scream and run away. She can cry rape and everyone will believe her, forgive her, and he'll be the outsider.

Bonnie will have friends – she'll have her excuse of a life.

Instead she takes two steps back and falls into the mattress. She spreads her thighs in an open invitation. It's been two years; she was fifteen when she got stuck with Caroline's boyfriend's fat friend. She doesn't remember what it felt like. She just remembers that for a long time she didn't want to be touched. Her eyes close and she bites her bottom lip as he continues to kiss and explore her.

Jeremy liked to use fingers and his tongue.

She doesn't know what to expect. Her breath hitches as anticipation nearly threatens to drive her insane.

Bonnie's eyes search for Ric. She needs to forget. No more thoughts of Jeremy, Elena, or Caroline. That's the past, there's no turning back. If she does this, she becomes everything her friends hate. What she sees in Ric is a man possessed. His tongue traces her collar bone before slipping to the space between her pert breasts. He latches on to a nipple and it feels better than anything she's done to herself. She wants to tell him where to move next, to touch that place between her thighs, the one that she's teased and stroked trying to take her mind off of everything that's happened. She doesn't mumble a word; she lifts her hips and prays that he gets the point. He pushes her down and forces her legs further apart.

He keeps calling her Isobel.

That's when Bonnie catches a glimpse of it the sliver of rage that she recalls from when he wasn't Alaric Saltzman but Klaus the Original.

He grips her thighs and pulls her down the bed. His body slams into hers and he enters her with one thrust. It hurts like hell and the tears burst from her eyes. Her insides burn and she wonders why she let things get this far. She trembles and fights. Clawing at his back and biting his lips when he chances a kiss. He grunts and groans, fucking her into the mattress. Her body stretches without mercy.

The words _fuck_, _tight_, and _Izzy_ singe her ears and she wants to run, but she stays taking his continued violation waiting for it to end.

Bonnie's sweaty and sticky; her hands cover her face and she's aware that she's nearly wailing. That's when she notices the man above her has stopped. His senses have returned. He's drenched from his laborious efforts. His erection hangs between them and she can see the traces of blood on his length, a result of his forcefulness.

The mood shifts.

Her finger presses against his lips before the apologies begin.

Their broken - casualties of war.

She leans back, taking his body with her.

Bonnie doesn't have to ask for him to try again. His hands are gentle, skimming her curves as he adjusts to slip between her legs. Her eyes slide shut and she concentrates, giving in to the sensations he's creating.

She's searching for wholeness.


	2. Set the Fire to the Third Bar

_So a little birdie was upset that it was a one – shot. I was too. I come bearing another chapter and maybe two more after this one. Another song title and lyrics precede this chapter. Keep in mind this update flip flops between two points of view. I hope it's clear. Enjoy everyone. _

_Thank you to the three readers that reviewed. It really meant a lot. I hope you enjoy the update. I'm nervous, I don't want to disappoint. Just like I know everyone won't like this kind of thing. _

_Disclaimer (I guess I need this): Not my characters. I just like to write useless fiction about them. _

**_Set the Fire to the Third Bar_**

_After I have travelled so far  
>We'd set the fire to the third bar<br>We'd share each other like an island  
>Until exhausted, close our eyelids<br>And dreaming, pick up from  
>The last place we left off<br>Your soft skin is weeping  
>A joy you can't keep in<em>

**_~I~_**

Days go by and Bonnie finds she's consumed with thoughts and images surrounding that night. Her mind lingers not only on the unnecessary roughness but the tenderness that grew out of the physical pain he inflicted and that captivates her more.

Soft kisses strewn from head to toe - easy strokes that brought her to the brink over and over – and the eyes that held hers when he came over and over again.

He won't look at her in class. His gaze drifts over her head or stops just before his eyes reach the spot where she sits in the third row. She hesitates, hovering at the podium where he still stands, painted on grin, as he answers questions about essays and extra credit. The words are on the tip of her tongue, and then she remembers she's just a girl, it was only a fuck, and it's best if she moves on.

So that's what she does, book bag thrown over her shoulder, she exits the room and disappears into the crowd.

**_~II~_**

Impossible describes what it has become for Alaric to maintain his self-control. He keeps his focus on a small group of students. The ones who constantly talk and ignore his lectures, because if his gaze wafts to the right, his eyes will land on her and everything he hasn't said will be said, right there in front of nosey ingrates who can barely deduce context clues.

He knows if he gives in to the memories - the taste of her sweat soaked skin on his tongue - the elevation in her breath as he fingered her clit - the way she said his name when she came; he'll be the sick bastard that stares back at him from his mirror every morning.

When she walks by at the end of the period, he reaches for her, only to be interrupted by his duties. He smiles politely, responding to the inquiries of seniors who may not walk across the stage thanks to F's they've received on his assignments. He relays the information in disjointed words and phrases before he rushes out the door.

He tries to remember she's just a girl. It didn't mean anything. He needed a nut; she provided a place that was tight, warm, and wet.

He navigates the crowd until he finds her. Head down, eyes staring at her feet. He loops his fingers in hers and leads her down a semi - abandoned hall.

**_~I~_**

The room is dark and cold with desks and chairs stacked to the ceiling.

There's a small space in the center left untouched and that's where Bonnie stands waiting for words that will help her comprehend his actions.

They never come.

Calloused, marker-stained fingers caress her cheek, and she yields to his touch. She accepts the momentary comfort he offers.

Things start slowly.

Long looks are followed by short wet kisses. The pads of his thumbs ghost across her nipples and she wants to moan but fear takes over. It makes her body warm, a familiar heat pools at her center, and as crazy as the momentary indiscretion may seem she refuses to make him stop.

He presses her back against the door and lifts her legs until they circle his waist. His fingers travel her thighs, sneaking beneath her skirt, before they hook into the crotch of her damp panties. He teases her, tracing her outer lips with his index finger. She tries to move and he holds her firmly in place. She considers witchcraft until he separates her folds and discovers the wetness caused by his games.

He works his finger deeper, staring at the range of expressions that play out on her face. He allows her to grind on his digit and she becomes aware of the tiny gasps that escape her lips. There are soft curses that follow his name until silence falls in the room with the slow peel of his zipper.

**_~II~_**

Alaric paves his road to hell with good intentions.

When he looks for her in the hall it's only to apologize for bringing her into his misery. He never thinks that he'll find an equally broken soul. He never thinks that she'll give him something he hasn't felt in years. That's why he works to convince himself it's a casual fuck. He calls her Izzy. He thinks of Jeremy and the way he knows the kid still feels about the girl. He does everything in an attempt not to give in to the power of his sin.

His body responds to the moans she muffles with his shoulder. She throws her head back and he watches as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. He's struggling to maintain control. He sinks inch by inch into her, nearly releasing without a stroke when he buries himself between her walls.

She fits him like a glove and his cock jerks with the realization.

He begins to move; clockwise and counterclockwise hits that lift her from the door. Her fingers grip his shoulder and he doesn't want her to let go. He wants to feel everything; her body - her pain - her pleasure. His ears fill with the sounds of their bodies. He grows harder at the thought of her increased wetness and the way she continues to ride his dick. The heels of her shoes dig into his ass and the discomfort is a blessing it allows him to enjoy her a little longer.

There are consequences to their actions; jail time, shame, and a countless number of repercussions he could name.

None of it matters.

_"Shit."_

He pants.

_"Bonnie."_

He groans.

_"Fuck."_

He whispers before sliding his tongue between her parted lips.

Her body trembles and she's close, with the swipe of a finger across her clit, she shudders joining him on the edge before they fully embrace their transgressions.

He holds her longer than he should.

He watches as she straightens her hair and clothes.

He smiles when she turns to look at him before she walks out the door.

It's not over.


	3. Collide

_Okay, time for a few special thank – you notes…_

_To the **alerters** – YAY – I am so very glad you want to know when I update this tale_

_To the** favoriters** – Welcome – to the inside of dark little imagination_

_The **reviewers** – THANK YOU – you guys make it worth it with your encouraging words and deviant thoughts. _

_It's time for another update – I apologize for the delay. _

**_Collide_**

_You're no angel, I'm no saint, if we were  
>We wouldn't be in this place tonight<em>

_Lost and lonely, scared and confused  
>We both have a past, nothing to lose, tonight<br>Well it cuts like a knife these bad luck blues  
>We both got scars from the hell we been thru<br>Somebody's gotta win, somebody's gotta lose_

**_~I~_**

Bonnie dances for the first time since the night of the decades disaster.

His arms are warm and strong around her waist. She sinks into step with his movements, gliding across the floor to the melancholy song. The words haunt her, their eerily relevant and true. Verses about whiskey and cocaine, cause her to shiver. She's thought about the addiction that weighs heavily upon her. The secrets they share connect them and separate them. He listens but she's not sure if he really hears her. She knows that her body responds to his kisses. Her legs wrap instinctively around his waist. Her tongue loves the way he tastes. It's not love, but daily – nightly they drown their blues in one another.

She rests her chin on his shoulder and watches as the bartender fills the glass in front of the stools they vacated. Her age and ability to drink goes unquestioned. There's no doubt she can drink, that's mostly how their evenings begin. Throwing back whiskey, bourbon, vodka, nothing like the girly concoctions she would blend for Friday night sleepovers.

When they return to their seats, she'll sip and wait, for him to brush her bare thigh with the tips of his fingers and whisper what he wants, what he needs in her ear. They'll leave and begin their torture all over again.

She can't help but wonder if the last few weeks have all been a part of Klaus' master game plan; the strained relationship with her friends and the new connection with Alaric.

Then she remembers the broken man from the cemetery.

Right now she'll dance.

Inhale the scent of his skin.

Play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

All while she waits for it to end.

She moves closer, gripping him tighter out of fear that if she lets go, the music will die and he'll change his mind.

She yearns for these moments; the nights that lead to her waking up next to him in a familiar bed, or the strange ones they rent for the evening. She tells herself it's easier when they fuck without the words, just a series of grunts and groans between them, but lately he wants to talk.

He wrenches the truth from her lips, how her heart still breaks when her eyes land on Jeremy. The stories about Elena and Caroline, the plans the three friends had for their future, an apartment off campus, bachelorette parties, baby showers, and holidays with their families. She cries and he wipes her tears before they kiss and drift off to sleep wrapped up in their sorrows and mistakes.

_**~II~**_

Alaric grows too attached to Bonnie.

He thinks it's her smile. The light that fills her eyes when her mouth curves up and that tiny giggle escapes. She's staring at him now and he knows she's concentrating on keeping time with the beat. This isn't either of their shticks, he doesn't do honky tonk bars or country music but he's tired of hiding with her behind closed doors. He's sure she would be more comfortable under the glaring lights and thumping beats of some sleek club with younger men who can offer her more than sex and the promise of a good grade in his class.

She's lost that reckless abandonment and he's partially blame. He hates what Klaus made him but in the same breath he thanks the sadistic vampire, without him the girl in his arms would still be a stranger and not the sweetest regret he's ever met.

They don't have the luxury of dating, so they drive to places where no one questions their differences in age. The liquor pours freely and the locals mind their business.

He allows himself to hold her closer.

His hands cup her ass and his lips place kisses on her forehead, nose, and lips. He wants to see her happy. He's sick of feeling her pain. She doesn't realize she cries in her sleep. His shirt stained with tears for the friends who will never understand the pain they have caused. He bears it, tightening his hold, rocking her in his arms, it's therapy for the burdens he's forced to bear. He stays because she's too beautiful to leave, too precious to wake up alone, and she deserves more than a grown ass man who grows hard from the sight of a seventeen year old girl.

The dance ends.

The crowd in the bar thins.

He recognizes the glint in her eyes. It's the one that quickens his pulse and tightens his jeans.

He simply obeys when she says, "Follow me."

_**~III~**_

Alaric and Bonnie don't see _him_ lurking in the shadows.

It doesn't matter, for now he's content to watch.

The steel will the witch uses when her mouth hovers above the head of the teacher's cock. She taunts him with warm breaths and quick flickers of her tongue. His dirty words, the ones he repeats about fucking her sweet little mouth and ass are wasted on the average human ear. But _he_ hears them. Just like _he_ sees the way the man's hips buck upwards nearly forcing her to crack her skull against the steering wheel. She doesn't stop, her mouth descends his shaft, shielding the hunter's most intimate parts from his eyes.

He'll stay and enjoy them a little longer; he's not ready to end their fun, yet.


	4. Thistles & Weeds

_Hello dear readers. I apologize for the delay. I think most of you will have the answer to your questions with this update. Yes you'll know who was watching Bonnie and Alaric, however there's another twist I threw in there. So check it out. Be warned I am cliff hanging you, but there will be another update soon. _

_Let me go on record and say how much I enjoy reading your reviews. Yes this fic is dark but it's nice to do something a little different. Keep reading. Keep reviewing. _

_Love ya, _

_DB_

**_Thistles & Weeds_**

_Spare me your judgments and spare me your dreams_

_'Cause recently mine have been tearing my seams_

_I sit alone in this winter clarity which clouds my mind_

_Alone in the wind and the rain you left me_

_It's getting dark darling, too dark to see_

_And I'm on my knees, and your faith in shreds, it seems_

**_~I~_**

Alaric's knees are still weak when he climbs the stairs of his building to his apartment on the second floor. He contemplates, sleeping right there between the first and second levels. His body is useless since he left everything he had to give back in the bed where she still sleeps. He takes a whiff of his fingers; her scent is still heavy on his digits. His tongue darts from his mouth and he can still taste her. Soon he's hard and debating between staying and returning to the house around the corner from the Gilberts.

He slips his key in the lock, noting the gap between the door and the frame. He gently pushes the wood. The tea kettle is whistling and Charlie Parker is weaving his way through the speakers.

"There he is."

His blood runs cold when his visitor speaks. The gentleman dances around the room to depressing sound of the alto saxophone. His arms are up and curving around his body as if there's another person there. With eyes shut in reverence he glides across the floor to the melody until his head snaps up at he pierces Alaric with his gaze.

"Tsk – tsk - I'm not going to drain you – _yet_."

The teacher is frozen one hand on the doorknob the other willing his heart to beat.

"Klaus."

The name strikes fear in him but its best if their conversation remains private. He closes the door and steps further into the apartment.

"We had an agreement Mr. Saltzman, your life, for _my_ witch."

The man moves with ease, still swaying in time to the beat, he pulls a mug from the cabinet, pours the steaming water over a tea bag, before he adds cream and sugar. In the blink of an eye, he's in front of Alaric, cold fingers wrapping tightly around his neck. He tries not to flinch; he feels the life draining from his body with slightest movements.

Klaus remains still, studying Alaric's face, and twisting his head from side to side. He leans in closer, inhaling the human's skin.

"You smell like her."

He sees the veins and anger in the black eyes searing his flesh with one glance.

"You're fucking her, that wasn't part of our deal."

**_~II~_**

_Bonnie_

_Bonnie_

_Bonnie_

At first she thinks the whisper of her name is part of her dream. Then her eyes open and Damon Salvatore is standing over her bed.

"I never invited you in."

He waves her off motioning for her to scoot over. "Your father did, once or twice."

She holds her ground in spite of his revelation. She stares at him and incites his brain to explode. He grabs the side of his head and pushes past the pain. He refuses to go down. She knows the damage is crippling him and still he inches towards her.

"What would Alaric think?"

The words are disjointed and burdened by the pressure weaving its way through his arteries. Still he continues, teeth grinding together, "What would Jeremy think about you fucking Alaric."

The vampire falls to the ground when she relinquishes her control.

"How?"

Bonnie is breathing heavily now, her hands cover her face, and she struggles to retrace their steps. How can Damon possibly know?

"I saw you tonight." There's a wicked gleam in his eyes, "I never knew you could swallow a cock like that little witch." He licks his lips and fingers the bulge in his pants, "You'll have to show me sometime."

She wants to kill him, watch him beg for his miserable second life, but she doesn't.

Who is he going to tell?

Who is going to care?

He reaches for her face and brushes his thumb over her lips, "How are you going to keep me quiet Bonnie?"

He draws a line from her neck, circles her nipple with the tip of his finger, and tugs on the peak.

"Do you want Elena to know how he fucks you from behind?"

He laughs.

"You beg for it - smiling when he pounds into you – such a dirty little girl."

She hates Damon Salvatore more with every word.

"Or I can tell Jeremy how you finger your clit while you ride Ric's face."

She swallows reliving the memory from earlier in the evening.

"You're just like me Bonnie, I can smell you, you're thinking about _it_ – him." His hand slips beneath the covers, "Maybe I can help you out."

She blinks and her mind sends the heathen flying into the wall.

"Get the fuck out."

Damon touches the back of his head, noting the blood on the tip of his fingers, with a smile. He licks the dark liquid and returns his attention to her.

"Big mistake Bennett _that_ was a very big mistake."

Bonnie's heart is still beating rapidly when her cell begins to ring, Jeremy's name lights up the screen and for the first time in weeks she's paralyzed by guilt and shame.


	5. Not Strong Enough

_It's called finals. I apologize, but I'm back now. Hope you still want to read this dark little tale. One more update after this. _

**_Not Strong Enough_**

_And it's killing me when you're away  
>And I wanna leave<br>And I wanna stay  
>And I'm so confused<br>So hard to choose between the pleasure and the pain  
>And I know it's wrong<br>And I know it's right  
>And even if I tried to win the fight<br>My heart would overrule my mind  
>And I'm not strong enough to stay away<em>

~I~

Bonnie walks into class the next morning to find a pudgy, bald, middle- aged man standing where Alaric should be.

Her heart sinks.

It's another disappointment, just like the rounds of calls that have gone unanswered.

She knows she's dialed his number at least twenty times since Jeremy's call earlier that morning. There's been no response to her voicemails or texts. Only a continuation of her ex – boyfriend's frantic notices that Jenna is missing, presumed with Klaus, who is now one step closer to achieving his dream.

She worries.

Part of her holds concern for the actions she's taken in the past weeks. Her feelings are growing and it's not lust. Numerous encounters that always end with orgasms, sweat, and words that refuse to leave her tongue keep his image engrained in her mind. The dreams that center on normalcy and how once she reaches twenty – something the differences in their age will go unnoticed carry her from breath to breath.

Then there's Jeremy and the three words he finally uttered over a static filled line. There were butterflies and confusion. She still cares but she can't deny what her thing with Alaric has become.

The other part, the deepest, darkest corner of her heart enjoys every moment and the promise of the ones in the not so distant future. She can't wait for their secret to be known, for the shock and awe to grace the faces of those she once called friend.

Maybe she'll thank Damon for his voyeuristic tendencies. It's a bittersweet freedom she cannot wait to enjoy.

Her mind is still racing when the intercom buzzes and her name is called. She gathers her books escapes the class and heads for the office. She finds the eldest Salvatore there, waiting, his frame covered in a simple black suit, and he's the very appearance of authority.

His fingers strum a classic rock beat on the counter as he waits for appearance.

The receptionist tells her to have a nice trip and she searches the vampire's face for answers.

"We need you."

The phrase is simple. They need her. She considers laughing. Especially when such genuine words are expelled from the king of the evil dead's mouth.

Where were _they_ when she was curled in a ball shedding tear after tear?

Where were _they_ when nightmares were her only comfort?

Nowhere – abandoned – alone – until…

"Your little sugar daddy is helping Klaus; we need you to take them down and get Jenna back."

~II~

Jenna cries.

He's sorry that this is her fate.

Klaus forces him to watch as he compels the redhead to drink his blood. His head is held perfectly still so he can view the original twist her neck until he snaps and her lifeless body tumbles to the ground.

He's speechless when her eyes open just before her face contorts with the first pangs of the virgin thirst for blood.

Honesty and loyalty those were the only things required to save the people he loved.

"I told you Mr. Saltzman, Bonnie Bennett is very important to me."

The newly made vampire is hysterical, questioning every burgeoning feeling, and the deepening guilt that builds with each passing moment.

"My _relationship _with the witch was all part of the plan."

He curves his mouth into a smarmy grin. For a moment he thinks the man believes him, and then those icy hands circle his throat - he knows that lying is impossible.

"Yes part of the plan as you taste her sweetness and stretch her innocence." Klaus releases him and steps back, "I could feel your desire for the girl when I borrowed your pitiful excuse of a body."

Alaric exhales, releasing the shame that accompanies the reveal. Yes, he's not proud, he considered what it would be like to have her wiggle beneath him, to moan his name, and now he knew. Then it was lust but it grew, shifted, and formed something he treasured.

"I can still bring Bonnie to you, there's no need to kill Jenna."

"You're right; you can bring Bonnie to me." His heart beats with a new fear stemming from the soulless gleam in the monster's eyes, he's hanging on every word said and unsaid. "In fact she's on her way her now, to end you."

~I~

Bonnie waits for Damon's taunts. He drives in silence as she watches the scenery flying by the passenger's side window. There's the park where she played with Caroline and Elena when they were little girls, the cemetery where the headstone rests with her grandmother's name, and the fork in the road that leads to the home she shares with her father.

She's feeling strangely nostalgic and on the verge of tears when Damon returns to normal cold hearted self.

"I should rip your throat out for the stunt you pulled last night."

She rolls her eyes, "Been there, done that, didn't work then and it won't work now."

Her voice carries a menacing tone that doesn't mirror the desperation she feels. The walls are closing in her quickly. What she thought she knew about life has all been a fabrication. She concentrates on the driver's fingers gripping the steering wheel; she briefly enjoys the aggravation her words and presence cause the vampire. The reprieve is fleeting and soon he's digging the knife deeper into her the open wounds she tries to hide.

"Stop pretending little witch, you're just as scared as the rest of us."

Yes it's true, she's terrified, but that's something none of them need to know.

"That's where you're wrong Damon, I don't feel shit anymore."

It's a lie.

She feels everything; the pain that's grown since her separation from the love and support she's always known. The sting of betrayal knowing that she was only a pawn in the game Klaus and Alaric are playing.

Those words whispered between thrusts and the moments he thought she was sleeping were empty and baseless.

Damon steers the car towards the manor.

"Keep driving."

He doesn't ask her where, she's sure he knows.

"We end this now."


	6. This Isn't Everything You Are

_It's been forever and a day. I wanted to finish this and I don't think this was my initial end. I always left the ending open...so you never know...sequel...reprise...etc...etc..._

_Again I apologize. I hope this is not too disappointing. I appreciate all of you reading and reviewing. _

_**This Isn't Everything You Are**_

_Is he worth all of this_

_Is it a simple yes_

_Cause if you have to think_

_It's fucked_

_Feels like you've loved him more_

_Than he loved you_

_And you wish you never met_

_Don't kill love now_

_Don't kill love_

_Don't kill love now_

_Don't kill love_

~I~

Damon barely brings the car to a stop before Bonnie jumps out. The sound of her boots against the stairs play a syncopated rhythm of the marching orders her heart is dictating. If she stops now, her eyes will swell with tears, and she'll have to admit she's the naïve little school girl whose mind was blown by a good fuck. It was probably Klaus' intentions all along. Divide and conquer, she just never thought, Alaric would be central in the Original's diabolical master plan. She feels the air at her back and she knows Damon has joined her on the journey.

"Fuck off."

Her threat is more menacing than she intended and in typical fashion, the eldest Salvatore doesn't listen. His hand circles her bicep and her steps falter from the pain. She can't attack. She doesn't have the energy. So her anger fuels her tears. Traitorous emotions prove she has a lot of living, loving, and growing to do as the water spills on to her cheeks. She wrenches her arm free and continues towards the loft.

~II~

Alaric's fear is real as he stares at the baby vamp watching him from the corner. She's gone through an array of emotions in the past thirty seconds. Highs and lows a medical professional would classify as mania and depression. However, it's when she's silent, surveying his form, that he's the most worried.

Jenna steps from her resting place. She circles him. She touches his lips, his face, and finally her hand lingers just above his heart, "You can't trust him." For a moment he considers it a final warning. An echo from the woman he used to know and then he realizes her allegiance now belongs to another.

Klaus' hand circles his throat, "I know, but why waste my precious energy to end him, when his fate waits just outside of the door."

~III~

Disappointment has been her life.

The mother's face she can barely see in her dreams.

The lovers who once shared her bed can no longer be called friends.

Then there's her father who sees an abomination…a heathen…when he stares into the eyes of his baby girl.

The first fire starts as a result of her overpowering negative emotions. It blazes a trail down the hall to the door leading to Alaric's loft. Damon hisses when a flame catches his prized leather jacket but he knows better than to openly complain or challenge the show of power before him. He lies in wait for her instructions. He stands as a willing accomplice who only wants to survive the vengeance she plans to bestow.

The second fire sparks from the palm of her hands. It's surprisingly cool and refreshing. She directs her hands towards the apartment and a deafening blast splinters the wood. What remains is torched upon contact. She's greeted by a round of applause and a sugary sweet smile from Klaus. He's holding the reason for her arrival and gladly hands the human over to flame spewing hands, "Is _he _who the little witch came for?"

Klaus tosses Alaric at her feet and for a second she's torn. She can see her reflection in his eyes and she's frightened by the image residing there. She's angry, hurt, and damn close to do something she knows she will regret. Two words slip from her lips and the teacher's heart ceases to beat. His eyes roll to the back of his head and she knows he's dead.

Damon rushes to his friend's side, slitting his wrist, and attempting to shove his black blood down his throat. It's of no use and she reminds him of that fact with one crippling aneurysm. "Get Jenna out of here." Her command is to the point. There's no room for confusion. Holding his head, the vampire obeys and flees the scene of the crime.

Bonnie's attentions turn to the master mind of her heartbreak. The sly grin still rests on his lips and she wants nothing more than to bring his existence to a final end.

"I'm so proud." An involuntary quirk of her eyebrow occurs at the sound of his admonishment. "All of this without the power of one hundred dead witches." He steps closer, "You did this alone."

She's sure her eyes darken as the flames in the palm of her hands grow larger, "And I will kill you alone."

"Now…now…love," He slides his hand into hers, extinguishing the fire with one touch, "Is that any way to talk to the man who single handedly delivered the pedophile who took advantage of you in such a vulnerable state?" He pulls her closer and she thinks for a moment that he's attractive, charming, "Do you like what you see Miss Bennett." His voice kills the mood and she's back to contemplating her attack.

Bonnie steps away from Klaus, lifting her feet over Alaric's body as she makes her way to the door, "If you leave Mystic Falls now I won't kill you," She pauses briefly, "If you stay I can't say I'll be so inclined."

He seems intrigued by the prospect and he quickly invades her space, "I look forward to the challenge."

He's gone before she can respond.

~IV~

It feels like a dream.

Alaric's trapped in darkness. Images of Isobel, Jenna, and Bonnie surround him. They're all speaking to him, loudly, in voices he cannot comprehend. His lungs swell when he attempts to respond. He coughs instead of issuing the apologies he intended and his eyes burn with salt from unshed tears and fights to lift his lids.

That's when he sees her. Eyes red from crying, the corners of her bow shaped mouth turned south, and a question brimming on her lips, "Why?"

He doesn't have the words. He tries to form a coherent thought and nothing comes. He stammers and nothing comes.

"It took two hours for you to come back." He relishes in the feel of his heart beating against his ribs, "Be careful."

He watches as she stands and turns to walk away. His ability to speak fluent English returns, "Bonnie," She gives him her back, unwilling to face him again, "Remember this isn't everything you are."


End file.
